The Black Iron Knight
by Mrfipp
Summary: Black Iron Tarkus, knight of Berenike, makes his way to Anor Londo.


Fipp: Here's another one for Black Iron Tarkus, who, along with the subject of the next one-shot, is one of my favorites in the game.

**The Black Iron Knight**

The man sat at the old wooden table, a metal cup in his hands, the liquor long gone.

"It can't be done, you know," he said, shifting his eyes to the other man in the room, who was sharpening the large sword he carried. "I really mean it, you're just going to either die, or go hollow. Why bother? Why not just go home and leave all this behind?"

The larger man did not respond.

The man at the table gave a woeful laugh. "Not even going to say anything? Or are you just too shaken that you're the last one of your troop to still be drawing breath? I'd be too, if I were you, I guess I'm thankful I came here all by myself." Giving off a heavy breath, he leaned back, his chair creaking. "I remember it like it was yesterday, so full of hope and vigor, and I honestly felt I could get through this place no problem and actually get through to Anor Londo. Once heard that Gwyn would award a human that made it through Sen's Fortress with anything they wanted; wealth, land, even a piece of his soul. Me though? I wanted to see if I could win the hand of Fina, who I've heard was the most beautiful deity in Anor Londo. But-" He raised his hands, gesturing to the room they were in. "As you can see, that all worked out horribly, and now I'm trapped here, I can't go through the place backwards without getting cut up by axes or snakemen, fall into bottomless pit, rolled over by boulders, or pulverized by those Titanite Demons in the sludge. Just no point really, you see."

The larger man held his sword up and looked at it, carefully wiping his hand along the blade. Standing up, he rested it on his shoulder, grabbed the large shield, and made for the door.

"Going to keep trying?" the crestfallen man said, amused. "You won't do it, and you've seen what happens to those who try; there are hollowed-out Balder Knights running around, bodies wearing armor from Catarina, and you're the only surviving knight from Berenike. If the Knight King Rendal died trying to make it through, what hope do you think you have?"

The man stopped in the doorway and looked back to the sitting man. "I don't give up, that's what hope I have." He then left, leaving the crestfallen man alone.

"Poor bastard," he said to himself. "If I never see him again, well..."

000

The heavily armored knight stood before the fog door. It was unknown what these were, some say they were the result of a nearby powerful soul, while others have theorized that they had to do with the bonfires. He himself did not know, nor did he have any guesses, all he knew what stood behind the fog. Placing his hand against the barrier, he pushed himself in, and greeted his foe.

Across the bridge, standing before the collapsed gateway to Anor Londo, stood the massive metal construct. Upon seeing him, the Iron Golem raised its giant axe and swung at the air. The tear of wind rushed at the knight, but he slammed his shield down in front of him, protecting him from the blast. With it gone, he rushed forward towards the Golem, sword in hand, just as the monster began its slow approach towards him.

The knight was the first one to land a blow, hitting it right in the ankle, causing it to stagger slightly, before pulling back and swinging a second time, and then a third. With that the Golem stepped back, causing the fourth swing to miss, leaving him vulnerable and for the Golem to reach down and wrap its giant hand around him. The Golem raised him above the ground, to its eye-level, before raising him above its head and slamming him down to the ground, hard. With him down, the Golem made for a swing of its axe, but the knight rolled out of the way, leaving the Golem to carve out a chuck of ground below.

The knight rolled into a standing position, grabbed his greatsword in both hands, and charged,

The battle continued, the sounds of metal clashing against metal and the shaking of stone could be heard across the land. Then the entire fortress shook.

Barely moving, the Iron Golem lay on its back, slowly moving to try and push itself back to its feet. Heavy feet fell on its large chest.

"Metal giant of Sen's Fortress, guardian of the entryway to Anor Londo," the knight said, looking down at the down Golem. "You have failed in your task, for you face the mightiest knight in all of Berenike." Grabbing his sword in both hands, he raised his sword above his head, pointing the tip down towards the hole in its chest. "For I am BLACK IRON TARKUS!" Tarkus plunged the sword down, penetrating the core of the Golem, causing a bright light to shine and flash from it. The Golem seized for a moment before going limp and falling to its side.

Tarkus pulled the Greatsword out of the Golem and jumped off of the iron hull. He looked around the platform and past where the Golem had originally stood, and the door that would lead to Anor Londo, but gave a heavy sigh. The entire door was filled with collapsed rubble, leaving no room for him to get through in any fashion.

"How does one enter the city of the gods from here?" he said aloud, casting his gaze across the landscape, but unable to find any answers.

Suddenly, pale winged beasts suddenly descended from the skies, catching him off guard. Before he could even reach for his sword two of them grabbed at him, hooking their arms underneath his, and the next thing Tarkus knew, they had lifted him into the air. He at first had tried to fight back, but then noticed just how far they were carrying him up, and the fear of falling to his death crossed his mind, but they just kept going up, and up. If they had wanted to kill by dropping him, they could have easily flown to the side and let him go next to Sen's Fortress. Either way, he chose not to struggle, seeing as though whatever they were going to do with him, they were going to do.

They kept flying, and soon Tarkus was over the wall on the high mountain, and soon they dropped him in Anor Londo.

Finally on his feet, Tarkus stood before in awe as he looked upon the city, bathed in sunlight, expanding as far as he could see, filled with tall buildings topped with arches and spires, the focal point of the entire landscape being a large building, a castle or church maybe, not to far away. Giving one last cautious look to the perched demon behind him, Tarkus readied his equipment and made his way down the steps. It wasn't long however before he encountered something; a giant, standing above him, dressed in gold armor, with a large shield and towering halberd. Tarkus raised his shield, to prepare for the inevitable attack, but none came. He slowly inched himself closer to the guard, but it was only after he had gotten close enough to touch shields did it react, by swinging its weapons down at him.

He continued onwards and into the building, it was large and empty, save for two more guards and a statue; a knight in lion-like armor holding a long spear. While he had no doubt that he could defeat the guards, he saw no point to it and continued onward. A large plaza was next, also empty, though further investigation showed him a room with something special in it, a bonfire, as well as someone else.

"A visitor it seems," the armored woman said. She leaned against the wall, arms crossed over her chest. "It has certainly been a while since someone has braved Sen's Fortress and actually make it through to Anor Londo."

"Who are you?" Tarkus asked, keeping his distance from the figure.

"Me? Oh, I am no one," she said. "I am simply the Keeper of this bonfire. I welcome those who come to this old city, and allow them to rest."

"A Fire Keeper? Strange, I've never seen a Fire Keeper such as yourself. You are a bit more..." He looked up and down, taking in the brass armor, and the sword at her side. "Formerly dressed than what I am used to seeing."

"Were you expecting? Rags?" she asked back. "This is the city of the gods after all, it is expected for one to dress accordingly."

"Yes, I would imagine, given what I've heard." He walked around the bonfire until he was standing across from her. "I seek the gods, Lord Gwyn, for the Undead Curse has ravaged my homeland of Berenike, as well as our neighbors of Balder and Catarina. I came here with a troop of soldiers to look for a solution, but I am the only survivor. I've come too far to turn back now."

"Then you have come to the right place," the Fire Keeper said. "Simply go forth, and venture deeper into Anor Londo, and you may find whatever answers you seek."

Giving one last look to the Fire Keeper, Tarkus turned around and left her behind.

000

"Where do I go from here?" Tarkus asked aloud, crouching low as he looked over the ledge of the walkway. above him was what seemed to be a staircase structure, mechanical perhaps, since he could see a lever across the gap, which lead to the cathedral. Looking further down, he saw the bottom step line up with a walkway coming from a door of the smaller church. "Question is, how do I get there?" He stood up and looked across the city again, like he had done many times before, and a question that was plaguing his mind refused to sit still, constantly ebbing into his thoughts.

"Where are all the people in this city? I've seen only a single person here outside of constructs and monsters." He looked behind him to the corpse of the gargoyle. "This is the city of the gods, a thriving metropolis I've heard, yet I've seen villages overrun with the Curse with more life to them than this place. There is something going on in this city, but how do I discover it?"

The knight looked around, looking for a way to cross, but he did not find a single way to get there.

"Then, perhaps I should make one of my own," Tarkus said, looking at the buttresses connected to the nearby building.

000

Tiles slid from underneath his feet, almost causing him to fall, but Tarkus managed to hold his ground. He looked down to the depths of the city, and wished he had not. Just how far did it go? He ignored it and continued up the buttress until he had reached the end of it, before dropping down the balcony below. The windows offered no door, so he made one.

Stepping over the broken glass, Tarkus found himself attacked immediately by a slim figure dressed in white. It swung at him with its two swords, striking him in the chest, before leaping back. It made another charge at him, but Tarkus pulled his sword back and stabbed forward, running it right through them. He pulled it out, just as he saw another one from the corner of his eyes, running towards him, and slammed his shield in front of him, and the knives it threw at him bounced off. Tarkus charged at them, and swung, but it simply jumped out of the way before rushing again, caught on the second swing of Tarkus sword.

With both foes slain, Tarkus looked over the railing and to the main room; open and spacious with a large chandelier hanging above it, many more of those white-robed figures standing below. What caught his eyes however was the statue at the other end of the room; Lady Gwynevere, towering over all, something that would draw the eyes of all alike.

Another sight caught his attention; a door, above the statue in a corner. If memory served him well, that door would lead him to the spiral staircase. The only question being how to get there. He looked around looking to the back wall, and there he saw a ladder that lead to an above platform, and from there he saw a series of rafters that spanned the ceiling area, leading to the door.

Moments later, Tarkus stood on the narrow rafters, the height seeming much more far than it did moments ago. With no other way but forward, Tarkus carefully took a step forward, the wood creaking slightly underfoot. With this on mind he he took another step,, and then another, until he had gone past the balcony, leaving the wood the only thing between him and the distant floor. Despite this, he continued forward.

The further he made it, the more clearly he could see that he was not alone, as they were several more of the white-hooded figure were up here as well, and they had taken notice of him. He raised his shield just as they began to throw knives at him, the large slab of metal protecting him from them as they clinked off harmlessly. But like this he was not able to make any progress, so he slowly inched himself forward, minding where he stood as he did so. One of them came at him and swung its swords, hitting his shield, but Tarkus struck back, swinging his sword in a wide arc, missing the enemy as it jumped back. Another one came at him, this one from the side, striking him below the arm. In haste, he made another swing at the second one, but in the attack his foot slipped, twisting off the wood.

He then fell.

He tried in vain to grab at something, the wood, a foe, even the nearby chandelier, but all of it was beyond his reach, slipping by too fast for him to even try and reach for it. The world fell away, becoming distance with each quick moment, and he could feel the ground below him fast approaching.

Black Iron Tarkus, the mightiest knight in all of Berenike, crashed to the floor. For a brief moment, pain filled his entire body as the shock shot through his armor and body, but it quickly passed, and soon he felt nothing at all. His vision becoming blurry, the last thing he was the white-hooded figure surround him, grabbing at his armor and dragging him to somewhere unknown.

000

Please review,

Mrfipp


End file.
